Fire On The Dance Floor
by Becks Rylynn
Summary: ....He was the only man who could do to her what she did to every other man she met... Futurefic. Marti/Morgan. Don't know who Morgan is? Read my story 'Song For The Lonely'. DISCONTINUED!
1. Imperfect Day

AN: Hello, I'm back, did you miss me? So, here is my Marti/Morgan story. Don't know who Marti and Morgan are? Read my iPod Shuffle story, Song For The Lonely. I did two drabbles about them, Supemassive Black Hole and All Fall Down/Say (All I Need). This story takes place before All Fall Down/ Say (All I Need) and in the middle of Supermassive Black Hole, before Marti and Morgan had their night together. Just for your information, I imagine future 22-year old Marti as looking like Jessica Lowdes and I'm going to be putting up a poll on who you think should play Morgan.

**Title: **_**Fire On The Dance Floor**_

**Summary:**_** .....He was the only one who could do to her what she did to every other man she met......**_

**Pairing: Marti/Morgan**

**Genre: Humor/Drama**

**Rating: T**

**Disclaimer: Do I own Life With Derek? Pfft! I wish!**

**Notes: The title comes from the song **_**Darling Democrat **_**by 16 MM, which one of the songs that inspired this story and the Marti/Morgan relationship.**

**Fire On The Dance Floor**

Written by Becks Rylynn

Chapter One: Imperfect Day

Marti Venturi knew how to use her body to her advantage. She knew what she wanted and she knew how to get it. She was the girl every woman was terrified of. They were terrified she was going to come waltzing into their lives in her barely there little black dress, and her come-fuck-me heels and steal their man when their backs were turned.

Good. They should be afraid.

Commitment meant nothing to Marti Venturi. Wedding rings were nothing more then pieces of a life she didn't want. If she wanted a man, she would take him, no matter what stood in her way. Whether it was a wife, a fiance, a girlfriend, a mother, hell, even a child, she would always get her man. Edwin was bad, when he slept with a girl, he didn't call back, Derek was worse, it was all about the chase for him, once the chase is over, you were nothing to him. Marti, however, was the worst.

You see, Derek and Edwin believed in love, they wanted it all. They wanted wives and children, even if they didn't know it.

Marti despised all things normal. She didn't want the house, she didn't want the husband, the dog, the 2.5 children, the white picket fence, the _love_. She didn't want any of it. She didn't believe in love anyways.

Yes, Marti Venturi certainly had grown up to be a vixen, a dangerous girl, who men wanted to fuck and girls wanted to break.

Unfortunately for her, there is one man out there who never fell for her charm, no matter what she did. He was the only one who could do to her what she did to every other man she met. He was the only one who could make her knees weak and her breathing speed up.

His name? Morgan Jones.

His occupation? Owner of a bar.

His marital status? He was pretty much the male equivalent of Marti herself.

And he didn't want her.

He was a peculiar soul. He flirted with her, he laughed, he winked, he gave her smoldering looks that you normally only read about in trashy novels. But he never _did_ anything about it. He was killing her. God, he was making her lose her fucking mind.

She did everything she could to get that damn Jones out of her head. She slept with a different man every night, she table danced at clubs, she skipped classes to have steamy back-of-the-library sex, hoping the danger (something she's addicted to) would make her forget. It never did.

One day, she fucked someone she probably shouldn't have, and ended up with a black eye from his crazy wife.

Great.

Just what she needed.

--00--

Marti leaned closer to the mirror and gently pressed a finger to her blackened eye, instantly wincing and pulling her hand away. ''Fuck,'' She muttered, frustration clouding over her eyes. _Well, _a little voice in the back of her head chided, _this is what you get for sleeping with your professor. You knew he had a wife._

''Alot of the men I sleep with have wives. Usually none of them walk in.''

A loud ring echoed through her apartment, and Marti sighed heavily, hoping it was not the crazy wife, or the hot professor. Her exspensive heels clickity clacked on the hardwood floor as she moved towards the phone, answering with a weary ''Hello?''

_''Oh, Marti, darling, I'm glad I caught you.''_

She nearly dropped the phone in shock. ''Mom?'' She hadn't spoken to her mother in two years. The former Mrs. Venturi had been off on some romp in the Carribean with her new husband, 12 years younger then her, for months. What the hell was she doing calling Marti at home?

_''Oh, yes, yes, it's me, baby. How are you?''_

Marti cringed at her mother's coo, anger thudding through her veins. ''How did you get this number?''

_''Why your father gave it to me, darling. So tell me, how's university? Lots of gorgeous male specimen's? How's your love life? Got a boyfriend, babe? Oh, I here the boys out there are just delectible. Of course no one compares to my Paulo - ''_

So that's what his name was. Huh. Marti thought it was Paul.

_'' - Have I told you about my trip yet? Oh, it was just beautiful. The scenery was breathtaking. Nothing was more breathtaking then my Paulo with his shirt off, but still - ''_

''Mother!'' Marti pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. Amazing. She had been talking to her mother for five minutes and her head was already pounding. She needed a drink. ''Can I ask why you're calling me?''

_''Oh, right. Well, darling, I just wanted to tell you that I'm coming to dinner tonight.''_

''Dinner?''

_''At your father's. Honestly Marti, you would forget your head if it wasn't screwed onto your head. It's Friday, cupcake. Remember?''_

Oh, shit.

Friday.

Friday night dinner with her father and Nora.

Oh, God.

This would be the time when Marti cursed deciding to stay in London for the duration of her college life. It was just that London had such great nightlife. _It also has Morgan, _that damned little voice spoke up.

''Shut up.''

_''What was that, sweetheart?''_

''Oh, um, nothing Mom. I-I gotta go, okay? I'll....I'll see you at dinner.''

_''Oh, alright, goodbye sweetheart. I love y - ''_

Marti clicked the off button on her phone and bit down hard on her lip, cursing herself for getting herself into these kinds of situations. She had a black eye, a pounding headache, and now she was going to be forced to sit through a dinner with her mother and her mothers...ugh...lovemuffin. Groaning, Marti trained her gaze on the ceiling, and frowned. ''Could this day get any worse?''

And then, her heel broke, sending her crashing to the hard floor.

''Fuck!''

--00--

The door to Jones Bar burst open and Morgan Jones looked up as snow blew through the open door. When he spotted the girl in the doorway, looking like the devil herself in a firey red dress, black knee high boots, and a black stylish coat, with oversized sunglasses on her face, he arched a single eyebrow and smirked, leaning against the bar. ''Well, look who's here. It's Coco Chanel herself.''

Marti sneered and plunked down on a barstool and yanked off her sunglasses, revealing her black eye. ''Shove it where the sun don't shine, Morgan.'' She sent a glare at a dirty looking man next to her, and he backed off. ''And get me a drink.''

Morgan didn't move as he looked at her closely. When she looked away, uncomfortable under his gaze, he reached forwards and lifted her chin up, inspecting the nasty looking bruise. ''Loan shark?''

''Crazy wife.''

''You hit her back?''

Marti smirked. ''Do you know me at all, Morgan? Of course I did.'' She moved out of his grasp and cleared her throat. ''Now, it's Friday night, and I have a cab waiting outside to take me to my stupid dinner where I will have to endure who knows how long of my mother and her new husband doing God knows what. Not to mention my father and step-mother who will undoubtly give me the ''Marti, what the hell are you going to do with your life'' speech and use my freakishly succeful brothers and sisters as an example as to who I should be, so I need some freaking courage. Preferably the liquid kind.''

As she was rambling, numerous patrons turned in their seats to gape at her. Morgan, however, barely raised an eyebrow, smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. ''You practice that little speech?''

''Yeah, a little.''

''Vodka or gin?''

''Oooh, vodka please.''

When Morgan put the shot down in front of her, Marti downed it in one gulp, the alcohol barely effecting her. ''I have two minutes before my cab leaves. Give me some advice.''

Morgan frowned. ''Do I look like fuckin' Dr. Phill, Princess?''

''You have parental issues too.''

''Fine. You want my advice?''

''Yes.''

Morgan leaned in close to her, so close she could feel his breath on her skin, making a shiver run down her spine. ''You're going to need something a hell of a lot more harder than vodka.''

Scowling, Marti slouched back in her seat and took another shot of vodka. ''I hate family.''

''Preaching to the choir, darlin'.''

A horn honked outside and Marti sighed, grabbing her purse and sliding off the stool. ''I should go. Hell awaits. Gotta face the vultures sooner or later.'' She smiled, albeit somewhat weakly, and leaned over the bar, pecking Morgan on the cheek and starting towards the door. At the last minute, she turned and ran back, grabbing the bottle of vodka. ''I'm gonna take this.''

''You shouldn't drink on an empty stomach!''

Marti turned and threw Morgan a smirk. ''Oh, sweetie,'' She shook her head in mock sympathy. ''You have alot to learn about me.'' Then, she was gone, out the door and into the snowy night, leaving nearly every man in the bar staring after her.

Oh, yes, Morgan Jones sure did have alot to learn about Marti Venturi.

And she was going to make sure she taught him.

_Everything._

_**end chapter one**_

AN: I know, short, but this was just an intro. So, what did you think? You likey?

Up next: The dreaded dinner from hell.

Kisses, Becks


	2. Meeting Mother

AN: And here we have the next chapter of _Fire On The Dance Floor_. This chapter is all about the dreaded dinner, and will have an appearence by at least one half of the couple we've come to know and love. By the way, I did attempt to put a poll up, and I'm not sure if it worked, but if it did, be sure to vote on who you think should play the sexy, barkeep that we know as Morgan Jones. Now, without any more of my yapping, I give you.....drumroll please....Chapter Two!!

Disclaimer: I do not own Life With Derek. I don't even own the first season on DVD....._yet._

**Fire On The Dance Floor**

Written by Becks Rylynn

Chapter Two: Meeting Mother

It was January in Canada. Otherwise known as hell. Oh, no, wait, if it was hell, it would be warm. Anyways, it was absolutely, positively freezing outside, and anyone who had any sense was inside, but Marti Venturi was not. Instead, she was standing on the front step of her family's home, slightly buzzed from the vodka, and with a feeling of impending doom bubbling in her stomach like acid.

Or maybe that was the vodka.

Well, whatever it was, Marti didn't like it. These stupid dinners were bad enough now that Lizzie and Edwin had moved away to the states and Derek and Casey were hours away. Marti was the only Venturi left to actually go to these damned dinners. They were already like a cruel punishment, she really didn't need her mother, the vulture, sitting across from her canoodling with her new hubby all night. Just the thought was enough to make Marti want to vomit.

At least her head didn't hurt anymore.

Marti giggled slightly, and then hicupped, putting a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise. Maybe she should have listened to Morgan and not drank on an empty stomach, she was sure if she tried hard enough, she could manage to substitute vodka for water at dinner. As she was weighing the pros and cons of her idea (pro: if she was drunk, she probably wouldn't mind her mother's lovefest as much, con: when she got really drunk, she tended to take her clothes off and that was something neither her mother, or her mother's new husband needed to know) footsteps sounded behind her, suspiciously sounding like the new Marc Jacobs winter boots, and Marti turned around her eyes locking on her step-sister. ''Casey!'' As soon as the older woman was up the steps, Marti threw her arms around her. ''Oh, thank God.''

''Hey, Marti,'' Casey laughed and hugged her back. ''Dreading knocking on that door?''

''You know it.'' She pulled back and looked her step-sister up and down. ''Damn girl, you look fine. Last time I saw you, you were covered in baby spit up and pureed peas. Great look, by the way.''

''Yeah,'' Casey flipped her long wavy hair out of her face and smiled proudly. ''Well, that was awhile ago. Davvy almost sleeps through an entire night, now. Still got a healthy pair of lungs on her though. So, yeah, anyways, Derek had to take Lexia and Cal to their mother's for the weekend, and he said he was fine with Davvy for the night, so I decided to come down and have a lovely dinner with my family, and by the way, why are we standing outside in the middle of January in Canada?''

''Uh...'' Marti smiled nervously and looked around for a distraction. Finally, she settled for her brother's ex-wife. ''So...um...you said Derek was taking Lexia and Cal to their mother's? Wow, a whole weekend of Kendra. Poor kids don't know what they're getting themselves into.''

Casey put her hands on her hips and looked sideways at her. ''Marti....''

''Okay, okay, you caught me. My mother's in there.''

The older woman's eyebrows shot into her hairline. Well, when it came to surprises, Marti never managed to disappoint. Casey was still trying to get over the shock of meeting that cute bartendar Marti had her eye on. If Casey could get a guy like that she would dump Derek in a second. Well, okay, that was a lie. ''Abby's in there?''

''Not just Abby. Abby and Paulo. Plus Dad and Nora. Oh, yes, another night of ''Marti, when are you going to get a job?'' ''Marti, when are you going to make something of your life?'' Only this time, it will be added with ''How's your love life, darling?'' and my personal favourite ''Are the boys giving you enough....attention"?''

Casey wrinkled her nose at the meaning behind that last one, and frowned thoughtfully. ''So that's where the Venturi's get their attitude's from.''

Marti groaned and dropped her head into her hands. ''I hate my life.''

''Relax,'' Casey wrapped an arm around her and smiled brightly. ''It won't be so bad. Do you want to know why?''

''Why?''

'' 'Cause you've got me_ dah-ling_. I'll be your wingwoman for you.''

Marti couldn't help it. She smiled, amused. ''Wingwoman? You learn that from Derek?''

''Hush. You want my help, or not?''

''I'm sorry, oh, great one. Please, please, help me. Don't let me face these people alone.''

''Deal. But first,'' Casey dug around in her purse and pulled out a can of altoids. ''Take one. You smell like you're three sheets to the wind.''

Marti popped a mint in her mouth and turned back to the dreaded door. ''Okay. Let's do this, wingwoman.'' With Casey smiling encouragingly, Marti reached out and rang the doorbell, chocking back a grimace as she mentally counted backwards from five.

Before she even got to one, the door swung open and Nora's smiling face appeared. ''Casey! Oh, honey, what are you doing here?'' She rushed forwards and brought her eldest in for a big hug, practically choking the poor girl. ''Oh, never mind, it's so good to see you.''

''Yeah, you too, Mom.'' Casey pulled away and smiled so wide, Marti thought her step-sister's cheeks were going to explode. ''It was shaping up to be a pretty dull night, and so I decided to come down and see my favourite family.''

''That's wonderful. Is Derek here too?'' Nora peered over Marti's shoulder anxiously. ''And the children?''

''Um, nope, it's just me. Derek had to take Caleb and Alexandria to Kendra's and he said he could handle Davvy for the night. So...here I am.''

''Here you are. George!'' Casey flinched, rubbing her ear, as Nora turned and screamed for her husband. ''George, look who's here!'' The kitchen doors opened and George exited, his hands stuffed into oversized oven mitt's, a large chef's hat on his head, a pink frilly apron on that read ''Kiss the Cook''.

''Jesus Christ.'' Marti bit back a gag and looked around for the liquor.

''Casey! Nora, it's Casey!'' He rushed forwards and brought Casey in for a hug. ''Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes.''

''Uh, hey, George. Nice...Nice apron.''

''Where's Derek?''

''Oh, he's at home. It's just me tonight.''

''That's alright, it's just so good to see you.''

Finally, Marti couldn't take any more of the happy family crap and decided to make her prescence known. ''Uh...hello?'' She raised an arm in a half wave and moved forwards. ''I'm kind of here too.''

''Oh, Marti!'' Nora smiled, a little too brightly for Marti's taste. ''Have you been there this whole time?''

''Yeah. Casey and I came in together. Remember? I was standing right next to her when you opened the door?'' But all she got was blank looks. ''Okay then, never mind.''

''Here, let me take your coats, girls.'' George, ever the gentleman, helped Casey out of her coat and complimented on her outfit. It seemed years of living with girls had made him a better man. Then, he moved onto Marti. When he took her coat, he didn't compliment her, instead, he said, ''My, that certainly is a crazy outfit.''

Marti resisted the urge to roll her eyes and smiled a painted on smile. ''Yeah, well, you know me. Crazy as a fox, baby.''

Nothing.

''Wow,'' She cleared her throat nervously. ''Tough crowd. So, um, where's....where's Mom?''

''Oh, she called from the car, she said they should be here in about five minutes.'' As George exscused himself to go check on dinner, Nora moved forwards and wrapped one arm around Marti and the other around Casey. ''In the meantime, come sit, and tell me about your days.'' When Marti and Casey sat down on the couch, Nora finally noticed the sunglasses her step-daughter was wearing. ''Marti, dear, why don't you take those glasses off.''

''I-I'd really rather not.''

''Bunny, you can't wear those glasses all night, your mother's going to want to see your lovely face. Besides that, you look like Victoria Beckham.''

Beside her, Casey let out a small huff of laughter, and tried to keep a straight face. Well, she was going to have to take them off sooner or later. Plus, it would provide her with some sort of interesting entertainment for the night. With a small sigh, Marti removed her sunglasses and waited patiently for their reactions. They didn't disappoint. Casey slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes shining with amusement, some kind of comment bubbling in her throat. Nora's mouth dropped open and her eyes tripled in size. Finally, Marti crossed her arms and smirked smoothly at her step-mother. ''Close your mouth, Nora, you look like a fish.''

Nora's eyes darkened, and she closed her mouth, drawing it into a thin line. Then, she called for her husband. ''George!'' And Marti was sure the neighbors must have heard.

''Marti, what happened?'' Casey asked, leaning closer to inspect the bruise. ''Did you get in a campus riot?''

''It's the University Of London, Casey, there are no riots. I don't know what happened at Yale, but we don't do that here. My school is very controlled. Bad things rarely happen there. Except hangovers.''

''So, it was a bar brawl then?''

''Oh, you're hilarious.''

''Nora, what is it? I'm trying to make my famous chicken parmesan, I can't be in here every other - sweet Lord.'' George dropped into the seat next to Marti and roughly grabbed her face, looking at the black eye. ''Marti Venturi, what did you do?''

''Oh, Rocky over here got into a bar room brawl.'' Casey pointed out helpfully, sticking her tongue out when Marti glared at her.

George set his jaw and looked unimpressed, glaring at his youngest through his eyelashes. ''Is this true?''

''No!'' Marti rolled her eyes. ''I did _not_ get into a bar brawl. It's nothing. I just ran into a door.''

''Oh, God!'' Without warning, Nora burst into tears and buried her face in her hands. When she realized everyone's eyes were now on her, she looked up. ''Don't you people watch soap operas?_ I ran into a doorknob_? Oh, please, that's like number one in the battered girlfriend's excuse manual.''

Casey frowned, and her eyebrows knitted together. ''Okay, you have way too much time on your hands, Mom.''

''It's true!''

''Marti,'' George asked seriously. ''Are you being abused?''

''No!''

''I'll bet it's those darned dorm advisors.'' Nora stood up, looking outraged. ''I watched a _20/20 _about this girl who was being sexually abused by her dorm advisor. Oh, I knew we never should have let her get a dorm. Marti, sweetie, this is why you should move back home.''

''What?! No!'' Marti stood up, trying very hard to defuse the situation before Nora gathered together some people with pitchforks and torches and went and got her dorm advisor in trouble. ''Look - ''

''Or-Or maybe she was robbed. I saw a_ One Tree Hill_, where Brooke got robbed in her store and didn't tell anyone. She told everyone she fell down the stairs.''

''Seriously, Mom,'' Casey spoke up, both amusement and disgust shining in blue eyes. ''You need to get out more.''

''Georgie, I think we need to call the police.''

''Now, now, Nora, let's just everybody calm down.''

''Calm down?! George, your own daughter is being abused and you want to calm down?!''

Finally, Marti had, had enough. This was just too much. She should have faked sick and said she couldn't make it. The night was already hell and her mother wasn't even here yet. Taking a deep breath, Marti closed her eyes and did something she rarely ever did when it came to her family. She told the truth about her personal life. ''I slept with a married man and his wife walked in and clocked me!''

Silence.

On the couch, Casey raised her eyebrows, looking extremly entertained. ''Man, I have got to move back here.''

''Yoo hoo!'' The door banged open and in a flurry of red hair, Abby entered, her arms outstretched. ''Marti, darling!'' Without even giving the rest of the family a chance to say hello, Abby had crossed the room and pulled Marti in for a hug. ''Oh, goodness, darling, look at you. You're all grown up.'' She pulled away and looked her daughter up and down. ''Oooh, and all filled out I see. Oh!'' That's when she spotted the black eye. ''Well, whatever happened here?''

''She ran into a door!'' George, Nora and Casey cried at the same time.

And since Abby was Abby, that was the end of it.

Marti grimaced as her mother pulled her in for another hug, the scent of Chanel No. 5 so overpowering she felt dizzy.

Well, here we go again.

Let the good times roll.

Woo-fucking-hoo.

--00--

All four Venturi's stared in horror as Abby fed Paulo a piece of chicken parmesan and he gave her what had to be the most painfully obvious bedroom eyes ever. When Abby made some sort of odd looking face, Casey leaned over to Marti and asked, ''Why does your mother look like she's in pain?''

Marti sighed and took another gulp of wine. ''That's her come hither look.''

''Oh....Oh, dear.''

''Uh, so, Abby,'' Nora spoke up, trying desperately to make it look like they were actually having a nice, civilized dinner, and not some sort of creepy old people-young people orgy. ''How-How's work going?''

''What? Oh, work? Fine, fine.'' Gently, Abby pushed Paulo away and looked across the table at her daughter. ''So, baby, how's school going?''

''Great.'' Marti painted a smile on her face and picked at her chicken. ''Just great. There's some really great professor's there.'' She bit back a smirk and tried not to laugh, because they had no idea what she really did with some of those _really great professors _and she had no intention of letting them know....ever.

''Uh-huh, and how's the nightlife? Alot of parties?'' Abby leaned closer, eyes lighting up like she was a kid on Christmas morning. ''Alot of...boys?''

''Some.''

''Mmmhmm.''

Marti mentally braced herself for the next question. The question she knew was coming, the one she had been dreading all night.

''And how's your sex life?''

That was _not_ the question she had been expecting. This one was ten times worse then the one she thought she was going to get. Oh, God, her mother had just said sex. Marti was sure she was in hell.

George choked on his food and Nora slapped him on the back, taking a large sip of wine as she did so. ''Abby!'' George cried, once he was able to breathe properly. ''What kind of question is that?!''

''What? I think it's a perfectly fine question. Come on, George, face it, Marti's a woman now. And women have certain urges - ''

Marti swallowed hard. ''Oh, _God_.''

'' - And these urges cannot simply be ignored.''

Across the table, Paulo winked at Casey and in turn, Casey reached forwards and refilled her wine glass, resisting the urge to drink straight from the bottle.

''Abby, do you really think this is the best time to be discussing this?'' Nora asked, perfect hostess smile still firmly in place. ''It seems to me this conversation may be better suited for, um, coffee.''

Abby sighed dramatically. ''Oh, very well. We'll talk about something else. Marti, sweetheart, I know the most wonderful young man just your age - ''

''Is it Paulo?'' Marti muttered under her breath.

'' - And I think he would be just perfect for you. You two would look absolutely darling together.''

''Abby,'' Casey cut in smoothly. ''Have you seen my newest pictures of Davvy? She looks just like her Daddy.'' Quickly, Casey whipped out baby pictures and handed them over the table to Abby.

The older woman instantly forgot about setting her daughter up on a blind date and started oohing and aahing over the pictures of her newest grandchild. Marti breathed a small sigh of relief and mouthed a ''thank you'' to Casey. As the rest of the family engaged in a conversation about little Davvy Venturi, Marti sighed, and leaned back in her chair and in her head, she played that game Derek had taught her about when she was little. If she could be anywhere else, where would she be? Well, that was pretty obvious. She would be on a beach somewhere, with half naked men feeding her peeled grapes. _No, you wouldn't,_ the voice in her head said, _you would be in a dark corner of your favourite bar with your tongue down Morgan's throat._ Marti scowled and reached for the wine bottle. When she tipped it, nothing came out. Marti pouted, jutting her lower lip out. ''Now, I'm depressed.''

A few more minutes passed and then Abby looked away and looked straight at Marti, her eyes determined. ''Listen, Marti, about this boy. You really should give it some thought. His father was a pop star you know. Jimmy Rowan. He had this delightful song in the 80's. ''Tugging At Heart Strings'' it was called. Of course, his son didn't follow in his footsteps, but he lives right here in London. He's a wonderfully charming man, Marti. I think he owns some kind of business here. A restaurant, or a bar, or something.''

Marti's heart stopped in her chest and her mouth dropped open. It couldn't be. There was...there was no way. He would have told her. Right? ''Uh...Mom...'' Marti leaned forwards, trying to look disinterested. ''What...What's his name?''

''Morgan Jones.''

Holy shit.

Beside her, Casey laughed and took another sip of wine. ''_Seriously_, I gotta move back here.''

_**end chapter two**_

AN: So, Morgan's dad was an 80's popstar. Bet you didn't see that one coming. It may seem odd, but it just adds to the romantic comedy feel of the story. Besides, it'll play an important part later on. As for why I revealed it so soon, well, I just needed the story to get moving along so we can get to the good stuff. I know, I know, this chapter didn't have Morgan in it, but he will be in the next chapter, I promise. As the story progresses, the chapters will get longer, for those of you who are wondering why the chapters are so short. The game Marti played at the end was called ''Anywhere But Here'' and I first heard about it on Buffy: The Vampire Slayer. I don't own it in any way, shape or form.

Don't forget to take the poll on who you think should play Morgan. And don't forget to review.

Kisses, Becks


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